THE NAKED ANIMAL

The Naked Animal has been off wandering in his native habitat quite a bit lately, that being the forest and the mountains and the rivers, these particular ones in far northern California. In fact, I almost got my foot in the door on some land up in Mendocino County in exchange for refurbishing a century-old ranch-house, but the whole thing fell apart when my would-be contractees started changing their minds about things I thought we’d already agreed upon. Suddenly, I saw a long chain of contortions and manipulations I would have to perform in order to do the project, which would only continue to complicate my life, when my intention is the exact opposite.

I’m a natural purger and I’ve always tended toward simplicity in practice and design, so it’s no surprise to me to find myself at forty with nothing but one room of dear and useful furniture, a suitcase of clothes, and a few treasured knick-knacks to my name. Then there’s the car that’s worth less than I still owe on it, and my cat–a definite drawback when you want to do what I want to do, but I’m utterly unwilling to part with him. We saved each other’s lives, and I know that one day we’re going to be able to communicate with each other through interspecies telepathy. Perhaps I’ll become the next Dr. Doolittle....

But that’s not my immediate goal. What is it that I really want to do? Well, that question has been nagging at me for the past–oh, I’d say about three decades. So, when I recently quit my job and went back on disability due to a rare, chronic leg infection that makes my shins, calves and ankles swollen, red and very painful in sporadic cycles (it’s called Helicobacter Cinaedi–doesn’t that sound like some swanky Nero-era Roman matron?), I started thinking about it a lot. I dove into many deep, dark places in a last ditch effort to hide from what I really wanted, and then went down even further to escape the fact that it wasn’t about want at all, but about a true, deep, dire, burning need. And that need, for me–my purpose, if you will–is to heal.

I don’t even know what that means or what it looks like from where I’m sitting, because I’m sitting in a place where I’m going to have to expend all of my energy healing my highly toxic and diseased self before I can explore what my urge to heal means beyond my own field. I have a power in me that I’ve kept stifled for so long that I thought I had finally snuffed it for good, but it’s still there, burning meagerly but unwilling to go out, and it’s going to burn right through me if I don’t use it to ignite some change in myself, and in the world.

Now, where do I start? Hmmm, let me see... Well, I mentioned my cat being a drawback earlier, and that has to do with what I want to do on a logistical, physical level rather than a spiritual one. But since they’re all intertwined, let me introduce you to my second most burning need; one that is intimately connected to my first: to live completely off-grid; in fact, to grow a completely new kind of civilization that operates not against, but completely outside the current paradigm, in which I’ve always felt like a trapped animal or disoriented alien.

But back to the cat. I mention him because many already operating off-grid communities do welcome new members but are opposed to pet ownership. In fact, I recently stumbled across what would have been a perfect gig for me on craigslist: a one-year, live-in contract editing three books of a spiritual nature for an author who had also established a small, off-grid, intentional community in the Wisconsin (I believe) wilderness. I didn’t even apply because the description of the community included “pet-free.” I am of the opinion that humans have a contract with the animals they have gone into partnership with over the past several millennia, and believe that we are all going to need each other’s help as we forge ahead with our collective evolution. So the cat stays with me.

That’s my personal drawback: I always have to do things my own way. Some call it an asset, but if so, the pay-off has yet to come. My complete inability to compromise my ideals in this matter is the reason I’m not already living in an off-grid, intentional community. There are dozens around the country, and hundreds around the world, and I’ve personally visited several, but I am simply very bad at joining any already-formed group. Or perhaps I just haven’t found the right group to join. But I suspect that I really just need to start my own. Yup, I’m the type who likes to re-invent the wheel.

Actually, my problem with most already-formed off-grid (or near off-grid) communities is that they are all tainted by the dogma of their founders and/or current core groups. When I say “dogma,” I refer to either a proscribed spiritual belief system or religiously practiced psycho-spiritual therapy technique–there are many, many “alternative” paths out there, most of which are certainly harmless and even beneficial to copacetically attuned souls, but I’ve never followed one that I didn’t later find was in fact presided over by the twin powers of dogma and ego, just like every other group-oriented concern on the planet. (Sounds like a law firm, right? “Good morning, Dogma and Ego, how may I direct your call?”)

I really don’t want anyone’s psychic detritus trailing along behind me into a new paradigm–especially my own. I feel the need to shed all beliefs and attachments, even those that currently lie beyond the mainstream. (Okay, except for my cat!) What I want is to go all the way back to the basics in order to rewire my being and its connection to reality from the ground up. In this I see the seeds of a new kind of spirituality that cannot be fully grasped in my current state. Some groups, to be fair, are already finding this in their own ways. I’ve just got to make room on this planet for my own way, whatever it may be, which is what everyone in this planet is trying to do in some way, I suppose.

Meanwhile, I strive to forge a clearer vision of that path, while acknowledging that I am, in fact, already on it. The next fork in the road leads to the release of addictions and improved health, and then we’ll just have to see what that stretch presents to me on its horizon.

I don’t know why I’m posting this, really. I feel completely detached from the need for literary achievement or success in the current marketplace, so it’s not to attract attention. Perhaps it’s to attract possible cohorts, or wise words from those who have gone before me. At the very least, I hereby record my thoughts and feelings as I move through some very big life changes. (Uh, yeah, Rob, it’s called keeping a journal, and it’s not like it’s some kind of new concept or anything.) No more stories of the past–I’m sick of the past and my quasi-nostalgic attachment to it all. Present tense is what I crave, with no strings tied to either the past or the future, a creature afloat in the river of now, of no-time, of all-time-as-one. No more simply dipping my toes in. It’s time to take the plunge...

[Splash]

Categories: healing, transformation